Friday, March 26, 2010

Soak up the Season

"Whoooooa!" my son yells, grinning, as the sunroof slides open, revealing the clear blue sky above our heads. Ziggy Marley pumps through the speakers:

"This train is bound to glory, this train
This train is bound to glory, this train
Choo choo choo, choo choo choo
Choo choo choo, choo choo choo"


I glance in my rearview to check on my passenger, bringing up the "caboose." His four pearly whites gleam in the sunlight, his silky hair blows gently in the breeze. He shakes his single maraca with glee.

"Ah, ah, ah!" he grunts, pointing a baby finger in the direction of a school bus he sees coming in our direction. "A SCHOOL BUS? You see a SCHOOL BUS?! Whoooooa!" He loves when I get as excited about a school bus as he is. He flashes a brilliant smile in my direction, so proud that he might as well have discovered a comet.

Now that spring has arrived, there's a whole new vibe in the air. My boy and I are be-bopin' around town, soaking up the sun, enjoying mini-adventures every day.

We stroll by the river, pointing at geese eating scraps of bread, introducing ourselves to fluffy dogs along the way. We watch the scullers move gracefully over the water.

We cruise over to the playground in my son's new push-car buggy. He squeals as a gust of wind blows his bangs around wildly. We zip down the steep yellow slide together. I hold my breath, praying my sneakers hit the ground first, waiting for my boy to say, "Ghen! A-ghen! Ghen!" I always take him down again.

We swing side by side, he in a baby swing, me in a child's swing, singing, "Weeeeee" into the breeze. We wave at the landscapers and admire the beautiful yellow petunias they are planting. We listen to the birds chirping in the trees on the verge of blooming. "They're saying, 'Good morning to you, good morning to you,'" I tell my baby and his big brown eyes light up.

He spots a dot moving across the sky, points his tiny finger up, and raises his eyebrows at me. "AIRPLANE, you see that airplane up there? Wow!" He smiles, thrilled that I see the airplane too.

He doesn't want me to miss one spectacular sight that catches his eye, one sweet sound that sparks his imagination. He wants to share the experience with me. He wants me to get squeal over a helicopter. Catch up to that tractor up ahead. Feel the fur of that adorable Golden Retriever. He wants me to clap my hands, pat my head, laugh with him, and yell "Whoooooa!" at the top of my lungs every time the sunroof reveals the glorious sky.

And, what can I say? I'm a sucker for that sweet little man who says, "A-ghen!" every time that Ziggy Marley song ends. We play it over and over again. He wants me to make the train sounds, and, of course, I always do. I open the sunroof, let the light in and sing wildly to my boy:

"This train has left the station,
This train carries every nation
This train is bound to glory, this train
Choo choo choo, choo choo choo
Choo choo choo, choo choo choo "


And, all the while, I can't help but think, for a little guy, he's certainly got it all figured out.

Thursday, March 18, 2010

This is What Success Looks Like

Forget the bad news for a minute. Forget the skyrocketing murder rate, the homelessness, problems in Philadelphia schools.

And picture this: a story of a young woman’s success, overcoming all odds to achieve.

This is the story of Antionette.



Flashback to 1999, when I joined Philadelphia Futures as a mentor and was paired up with Antionette.

Picture us meeting for the first time at her rough North Philly school. Me, a young professional from the Main Line, walking through the school’s metal detectors, past armed security guards, a bit nervous and doubtful that I would even have enough time to commit to mentoring.

And then there was Antionette, a lovely ninth grader from Jamaica, who took my hand, introduced me to her teachers and friends and convinced me in about 3 minutes that yes, indeed, I would MAKE enough time to devote to mentoring this young girl.

Picture this: our first outing together. Choosing the perfect frame for her honor roll award. The same award that classmates teased her about. Imagine Antionette reading Shakespeare aloud in class, while students snickered at her accent.

Envision all of the new experiences we shared together: sampling foreign foods (me, fried plantains; her, fried dumplings), visiting museums, going to concerts, shopping for a prom dress, meeting each other's families.

Picture Antionette’s mother who believed in her enough to come to every school meeting and mentorship function, who would tell me each time, in her beautiful Jamaican accent, “Stay-a-ce, every ‘ting is al –right.”

Imagine the obstacles that Antionette faced: no school books, burnt-out teachers, overcrowded classrooms.

Envision the environment: friends dropping out of school, getting pregnant, watching dreams fade away. Don’t forget the violence around every corner, fear in the neighborhood, tearful goodbyes to friends.

Imagine Antionette's perserverence: holding down after-school jobs while balancing homework, tutoring, and sometimes cooking for her family. Picture the group of educators and friends surrounding her, insisting on her achievement.

Don't think it was always easy. When life was a struggle for me, when I broke up with my boyfriend, switched careers, wanted to drop out of law school after the first week, it was Antionette who was my anchor. The thought of her persistence made me want more, dream bigger, and do better in my own life.

Together, we navigated through each semester of high school and then on to SATS, college applications, and essays.

Imagine Antionette going to Penn State on a full scholarship, living in the dorms, far from the gunfire on the streets of Philadelphia. Picture her in biology class, statistics, dreaming of a career in medicine or maybe social work or education.

Flash to May 19, 2007. Picture thousands of people in Happy Valley throwing caps in the air as those who love them cheer. Picture Antionette walking across the stage to accept her diploma, the first in her family to receive such an honor, to win such well-deserved distinction. See her standing tall, proudly, in her new suit, destined for greatness, and see me, her mentor, advocate, cheerleader, life-long friend, shedding tears of pride and smiling from ear to ear, knowing that she has made me a better person and, quite possibly, I have done the same for her.

Imagine Antionette’s story is just beginning and think of all of the possibilities in her next chapter.

Believe, out of devastation and despair in our city, the light of hope still shines on.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

ONE

white stick with two pink lines

One
shriek of excitement

One
soon-to-be daddy yelling, "Pee on something else! Pee on something else!"

One
blip on the ultrasound screen

One
tiny thud of a heartbeat

One
tear rolling down my cheek

One
hand squeezing mine

One
million kicks inside of me, a World Cup match in utero

One
month of eating only water ice and grilled cheese

One
ton of money spent on cocoa butter

One
rare March snowstorm

One
trudge through the snow while in labor

One
last walk into the hospital as just the two of us

One
first walk out of the hospital as a family

One
month of sleep deprivation

One
gummy smile

One
giggle

One
"Da-da"

One
"Ma-ma"

One
shiny new white chicklet of a tooth

One
clap of chubby little hands

One
shake of the head

One
bop to the music

One
wet baby kiss on my cheek

One
belly crawl

One
baby singing in the back of the car

One
"Love you"

One
curious finger pointing at everything

One
baby becoming a little boy

One
birthday cake with

One
candle

One
year

One
phenomenal journey.

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